


Healing Touch

by Areitheperidotdragon, Shinku130



Category: Legacy of Kain
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Half-Vampires, Kain Has Issues, Legacy of Kain - Freeform, Original Character(s), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Raziel - Freeform, Sons, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areitheperidotdragon/pseuds/Areitheperidotdragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinku130/pseuds/Shinku130
Summary: Two children of Divine and Profane blood. Two scions of Hope made flesh. Can the sons of Balance and the Reaver help save their Fathers from a threat originating with their Grandfather's carelessness, or will their attempts to help doom not only their Fathers homeworld of Nosgoth, but the Multiverse itself?
Relationships: Kain/OC/Raziel, Kain/Raziel (Legacy of Kain)
Comments: 2





	1. Chapter 1

_“You were born a child of light’s wonderful secret- you return to the beauty you have always been”_ – **_Aberjhani._**

The sound of weapons clashing against each other again and again echoed within the vast green field that was connected to an equally massive forest. 

Two young men could be seen in the center of the area, each no older than fifteen summers. The boys separated briefly to catch their breath upon the signal of the woman acting as their referee. Her hand remained poised in the air, and an ornate Japanese style fan could be seen spread open within it. The woman was wearing a long-sleeved, white silk top, the arms of which were slit open so that one could see creamy, unblemished skin and a long black skirt. Her hair was jet-black, and her eyes a dark chocolate brown. Her usually kind, gentle face was stern as she looked over both boys. 

The boy to her left was tall for his age, his shoulders broad and stocky. Silvered hair was pulled back into a tail, held in place with a leather string to keep the strands from his eyes. His eyes were golden in color, filled with level-headed seriousness despite the cocky smirk that revealed a set of sharp, cat-like incisors. In his hands lay an ornate spear. The shaft of the spear was bright green in color and glowed within its' wielders hands. Power crackled along the haft, dancing over the intricate gold vines carved into the wood in a manner not dissimilar to lightning. It was as if he held a green storm in his hands, contained, and eager to lash out as his target. A golden lion with wings outspread lay where the shaft met the blade, a design meant to act as a guard to trap an enemy's sword.

The boy to her right was more lithely built. His was a form made for speed and endurance—a contrast to the boy across from him. To continue the difference, this boy had black hair, which was held back similarly. His eyes were a dark sapphire in color and filled with both mirth and intelligence. The dark-haired boy's lips were turned up in an equally cocky smirk that showed off a similarly sharp set of fangs. A pair of massive, bat-like wings rose from his back, and in his right hand was a long-sword that glowed and crackled like the spear. Unlike the spear, the sword shone instead with a blue light rather than a matching green. The guard of the sword was made of a massive wolf's head. The blade extended from the wolf's head, right between the ears. The ears themselves were tilted back and down to act as the guard to protect the boy's hands. The hilt was wrapped up with black leather in a diamond pattern, and a single lone gem glowed with a blue light at the pommel.

Once the woman was certain that neither boy was injured, her hand fell, the fan snapping closed with a loud snap that echoed in the air. The boys' charged at her signal, joining once more in battle. Every blow that was blocked caused green and blue sparks to fill the air, the magic held within each weapon eager to be used. Over the next thirty minutes, neither boy looked to be able to gain the upper hand. Their battle could have continued on for hours had the woman not clapped her hands together sharply.

"That is enough for now," the woman commanded in a voice as pure as a spring wing. "Artorias, Ornstein, stay your blades."

"Yes, mother," the boys said in unison.

Artorias, the boy with dark hair and wings, fell back into a relaxed stance. His wings withdrew from their threat-pose and closed against his back. He glanced around the area briefly, blue eyes narrowed as if looking for danger before he looked at the woman, their Mother. Likewise, Ornstein, the boy with silvered hair, fell back to stand at attention. His posture was stiff, unlike the others' more relaxed pose, much like the proud lion-cub that he was. He, too, looked around for danger before turning his golden gaze to their Mother. 

"Now, why would you go and stop the boys like that, Iola?" a male voice said from the tree line. "They were doing just fine from what I could see."

The bare-chested man who stepped from the woods was a massive, blocky man covered in battle scars that did nothing to distract from his rugged looks. Long, silver hair flowed freely over his shoulders, and two massive battle axes were sheathed to his back. He came to a stop next to the woman, Iola, and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked over the boys with a proud expression on his face.

Iola let out a soft sigh as she looked at the man, her dear, unruly, Uncle. She shook her head and turned her attention back to the boys with a gentle smile on her lips. She winked at them, and they both grinned back.

"Why it's quite simple, Uncle, " she responded in a regal tone as she turned back to the man. "It is time for lunch, is it not? I would assume that is why you have come here when the sun is highest in the sky."

"Right you are, dear Niece of mine!" the man said with a booming laugh. "Your Father asked me to come and fetch the three of you. Now that I have informed you of the time, I shall head back ahead of you. There is talk of a war brewing within one of the realms ruled by your Aunt, Nixa. Crazy old bat thinks she can do this without me. Hah!"

Iola raised a brow at her Uncle as his expression darkened to one of anger and just a hint of concern. She smiled gently. Gruff as the man may be, he showed his love and how much he cares in his own, unique ways. His wife, Nixa, was often in competition with her husband, each trying to outdo the other, but if there was danger, he would act.

“Then you best be on your way, Uncle. We wouldn’t want Auntie Nixa starting the war without you,” Iola said with a soft, soothing coo to her voice.

Her Uncle let out a grunt of approval and agreement before turning away and starting back toward the castle in the distance. Once the last clunks of his armor could no longer be heard, she turned to face her son's. She smiled at them wryly.

"One of these days, your Uncle will be the death of me," she said with a soft laugh. "The amount of trouble he gets into keeping Auntie safe. Honestly!"

Artorias let out a bark of laughter at his Mother's words and reached up with clawed fingers to untie his hair. The blue leather tie fell away readily enough after a gentle tug, and he worked to catch all the strands that had come loose in their latest bout. He looked over at his brother with a grin.

"Think we'll be invited along this time?" he asked in a bland tone, hiding his eagerness at the thought. The boys were old enough, in their minds, to face combat now that they were fifteen.  
“I do hope so brother. I think you've been getting a bit rusty,” Ornstein replied with a sly smirk.

His brother bristled at the playfully meant insult, dark blue eyes narrowing in an equally playful challenge as they once more squared off. Iola clapped her hands and drew their attention firmly back to her.

“Now, now. Don’t you start, my darlings," Iola said in a gentle, yet scolding tone. "As for the war that your Uncle was speaking of, I doubt you will be joining them. From my understanding, they don’t require any more scouts, which is all you would be allowed to do at your age. That is for the best, especially when taking into account that you each have training sessions soon with your Uncles, Erathmus and Lothian."

Iola smiled in amusement as the two boys groaned loudly at her words. She turned from them and started down the path that led to the castle.

"Must we train with them?" Artorias asked with a groan, his wings drooping so that the tips brushed the ground as he caught up to his Mother. "Uncle Erathmus will just end up droning on about 'the judgment of the spirits entering the realm of Diyu.' He hasn't taught me anything new in months! I'm pretty sure Orn hates having to listen to Uncle Lothian doing the same, even if he's too nice to say anything about it."

"Come now, brother," Ornstein said with an amused grin as he trailed behind them. "Our lessons aren't quite that bad. A little repetitive at times, yes, but that's to make sure we understand our previous lessons."

"Yeah, no," Artorias said with a scoff. "I'd get that if it was Uncle Erathmus asking me questions about the previous lecture before moving on to the next. He is literally repeating the same lesson over and over, Orn. That's not teaching. That's him going senile!"

"Really, brother!" Orn said in a scolding tone. "You don't have to go that far!"

Iola chuckled softly to herself and continued along the path without interrupting her son's playful bickering. They didn't stop even as they came to a stop at a pair of large, ornate doors that acted as the castle gate. The doors were crafted out of beautiful mahogany colored wood that had been cut from the branches of a divine tree. A flight of dragons had been carved into the doors, wings spread as they soared through a stylized skyscape. Iola raised her hand, and the doors swung open at the touch of her magic. 

Once open, a vast raised road was revealed. The path was built upon a series of massive pillars. A sky-bridge that led to both the main castle and the surrounding city that had been built along the side of a tall mountain. Iola took a moment to look over the beloved city that she called 'home' as they walked. 

To her left were several large waterfalls that carried fresh snow melt from the top of the mountain. It was a beautiful sight to see, and she never tired of walking past it on the way home every day. To their right and below them was the raised city itself, bustling with activity as people went about their daily routines. Directly in front of them was a large, sprawling castle built into the very mountain. It had been reinforced with the strongest of metals and the hardiest of stone. 

"Mother? Let us make haste, we don't want grandfather to send out a hunting party for us like he did last week when we were late because of the deer," Artorias said, gently placing his hand on his Mother's shoulder and drawing her from her thoughts.

Iola snapped out of her quiet reverie and looked at her sons with a smile. She nodded her head and continued along the path—the two boys trailed behind her like a pair of ducklings. As they entered the castle proper, a servant came running up to greet them. His face was red and pinched, dark red hair matted and stuck to his face with sweat. His eyes were wide, and he looked to be panicked. Now that she noticed it, other servants were running about looking around with equally panicked expressions on their faces.

_What has happened to overwork our servants?_ Iola thought to herself. 

"My Lady, forgive me for interrupting, but you are needed in the council room at once," the servant said rapidly. "His Majesty, Lord Orion, had requested your presence."

Idle curiosity instantly transformed into worry. Iola turned to look at her sons, a stern expression on her face. It was a look that commanded they stay out of trouble. Both boys stood at attention and nodded solemnly. They understood that look quite well. Iola nodded in return and turned back to the servant.

"Lead me to him," she said, keeping her voice calm and soothing. 

The servant nodded and bowed before leading her off. Artorias and Ornstein being left behind to take care of themselves. Ornstein frowned and looked around the room, taking note of what his Mother had already seen. He turned to Artorias.

"Strange," he muttered softly so as not to be overheard. "Something bad must have happened if they are calling on Mother like this."

"I agree," Artorias said with a frown. His wings twitched and pulled in tight against his back. "It is bizarre. Still, food?"

He started to wander off toward the dining hall, yet Ornstein did not move to follow. He had noticed something amiss down one of the smaller corridors connected to the main hall. He quickly caught hold of his brother's arm, causing the other boy to pause and look at him in confusion. Ornstein jerked his head in the direction of the hallway. Artorias glanced over, and his lips immediately curled into a small snarl that revealed his fangs.

Blood-adopted by their Mother, they had been gifted with a portion of her Divinity, but they also had the blood of Vampiric kin running through their veins. As such, the boy's unique natures allowed them to see what most could not, even amongst the Divine. Art could see into the shadow realms of the departed, realms that existed both betwixt and beyond the Physical realm. Orn could see the very nature of a living body, aiding in his rapidly growing skills in the healing arts. Both could see the aura's of others around them. 

And the two servants they had seen? They had dark and sickly Aura's that screamed of death and danger. Not too unusual given the Divine nature of some of their kin, but added to that was the fact that the pair of servants were simply dressed wrong. Oh, the clothing was the right clothing, but it was apparent that the clothes didn't fit. Every servant had clothes that were tailor-fit for said servant. Not only that, but they were talking in the shadows as if they had something to hide. They were out of place. No one had noticed because of the chaos around them.

Ornstein quickly tightened his grip on his brother's arm, drawing Art's attention back. Orn raised a finger to his lips and then tapped on his ear. Artorias knew immediately what his brother wanted to try and do. The two moved quickly and quietly to the wall nearest the hall entryway. Once they had gotten close enough, they could make out some of the conversation. Annoyingly, the servants were speaking the Karodor tongue, a language that the boys had just started to learn. As such, they could only pick out a few words here and there. The words 'realm,' 'Nosgoth,' 'hidden,' and 'awakened' stuck out to them. The Servants then laughed softly and disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

The boys shared a concerned look.

"Well, that was all but useless," Art muttered before tilting his head in thought. "Nosgoth, though? They mentioned the word 'realm' before that, so is that a world? I've not heard of any place by that name. You?"

"No, and that is troubling," Orn said, his lips pursing together to form a thin line. He looked beyond upset. "All of the realms are watched over by not only Grandfather but every other god and goddess that lives here. Even if they maintain a strict non-interference stance, the domain is still noted and watched over. There should be no unknown realms."

"We should go to Grandfather's Realm-Watch room," Artorias said softly, turning to head that direction. "We can figure things out from there."

Ornstein let out a small huff of irritation as his brother wandered off. He quickly followed suit, however. He was not about to leave his brother alone when there was a mystery to be solved.  
*We should tell Mother about this before we proceed, Artorias,* Ornstein Whispered over the bond he had with his brother as they passed through a crowd of servants. *Remember what happened the last time we broke into his rooms.*

_*I remember,*_ Artorias responded with a mental laugh. His voice turned serious a moment later. _*Mother has enough to worry about right now. We will need proof to show that someone with ill intent has been in our halls. We cannot go to her with base suspicions regarding a conversation we could not even understand.*_

_*Fair enough,*_ Orn responded. *Let us be off then. Do try not to get us into trouble this time around.*

_*No promises!*_ Art responded with another mental laugh.

**(I would like to thank you all for reading! I especially would like to thank my wonderful friends Ash and Areitheperidotdragon for their awesome help with editing this fic! Thank you once again!)**


	2. Chapter 2: Teens in Trouble

The boys came to a stop in front of a large door made out of black marble. A lion had been carved into the stone and plated with gold. The large feline seemed to be roaring at anyone who stood before it. Behind the lion's head was the carved image of the sun, haloing the mighty beasts head. Cut along the edges of the sun were the runes of their ancestors.

Ornstein raised his right hand, a glow surrounding it as he began to recite the incantation needed to open the door. A bright light extended from his hand. From that light extended several tendrils of magic that looked like a series of vines reaching outwards, or perhaps several small rivers. Each tendril touched one of the runes, causing them to light up in unison. Once they were all lit up and Ornstein had finished the mantra, the whole door lit up with a gold light for all of a moment.

A low rumble filled the air, echoing along the vast and empty hallway. The door opened, but both boys waited for a moment to make sure no one had heard the noise. It would do no good if someone came to investigate the sound. Nodding to each other, they stepped inside the room. The doors closed behind them with a soft thud. 

Once the doors closed, sconces along the walls of the room lit up. The magical flames cast the room in a soft, soothing blue glow that flickered and reflected off the extensive shelving in the room. Their Grandfather had both gathered and written thousands upon thousands of books over the centuries. Each book housed details about various realms, various histories, and the people found there. Hopefully, they could find information on this 'Nosgoth' within those pages.

A brighter blue light emanated from a large circular table in the middle of the room. The table, the Anzeigen, was crafted out of a beautiful, white marble that was lined with gold trimming. The center of the table was made of a blue, fluid-like glass that shimmered like it was alive. Soft streams of mist rose from that glass, giving it the illusion of a steaming bowl of water. Connected to the front of the table was an exquisitely designed basin that held silvery-blue sand. It was one of two paired artifacts that allowed the gods to view and travel to various realms. 

The other paired artifact, the Tairseach, was on the other side of the room, directly across from the door they had entered through. It was a portal shaped out of the branches of an ancient and divine tree. The limbs of the tree had been carefully grown so that there was a large circle between the branches. The circle itself was easily tall enough that the boys could stand on each other's shoulders and still not touch the top branches. It, too, had a basin filled with silvery-blue sand connected to it along with a flat table to pour the sand on. Both boys hoped to avoid using said portal. 

Artorias and Ornstein came to a halt in front of the table and shared a look. 

"I believe this is where you come in Artorias," Ornstein said as he glanced back at the table. The roiling of the living glass was like watching the ocean during low-tide. Soothing. "You remember how to activate this, yes?"

"Of course I do," Artorias responded with a chuckle and a teasing nudge to his brother's shoulder. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to overwork yourself."

"Hmph, as if," Orn responded with a smirk. "I have a greater pool of magic than you do, Art."

"Sure you do, brother mine," Art responded with a snort. "Go check the realm list for 'Nosgoth,' will you? I will see if there is anything to, well,  _ see _ ."

"Have fun with that," Orn said with a chuckle as he wandered over to look at a rather hefty book that lay open on a golden pedestal. 

Artorias moved closer to the Anzeigen and dipped his hand into the container holding the silvery-blue sand. Cupping his hand around a small amount of the sand, he moved his hand over the flowing glass and slowly allowed some of the sand to trickle from his closed fist. The glass stilled when the first grain hit it, power humming through the air. Artorias carefully traced out the circular runes needed to spell the word 'Nosgoth.' Once the last letter was done, the table glowed even brighter, the water-like glass coming alive like a stormy sea. 

"It  _ is _ a realm!" Art yelped out in relieved surprise. 

Ornstein lifted his head in surprise. He picked up the heavy book and rushing over to the table so he could both witness what might be revealed to them and check the book's contents. It would take some time for the table to focus on the world in question. They had a few minutes to look through their Grandfather's book. Hopefully, they would find something to help in their search for evidence.

Sadly, much to the pair's disappointment, they were unable to find anything in the book about a 'Nosgoth.' Ornstein had started to close the book with a frustrated sigh when a folded scrap of paper fell to the ground. Artorias, agile as always, reached out and caught it before it could hit the ground. He opened the note and blinked in surprise. That was his grandmother's handwriting. He held it out so that he and his brother could read it together.

_ Dearest Husband, _

_ I hope this letter finds you doing well. The healing of the realm of Iovanka is proving to be no simple task. I will not be able to return for another three of our winters.  _

_ Word has reached me that you have created two sons for Iola with the help of That Woman. I am sure that our new grandchildren will be amazing and that Iola will complete the blood-adoption, but are you sure that was a wise course of action, Husband mine? I fear That Woman still harbors resentment towards us and may try something in the future. _

_ You said that the boy's biological fathers are named Kain and Raziel, correct? Are you sure it was wise to choose Vampiric Lords? Ah, no matter. You have always had a good judge of the essential bloodlines of the Realms.  _

_ Perhaps I am being overly concerned, but I worry. I, too, wish for our daughter's happiness. For her to no longer be alone when she has had so little time to blossom with love for another. Perhaps parents' love will be enough to soothe her lonely heart. _

_ Still, you have refused to pass along what realm these Lords are from, which concerns me. You are hiding something, Husband mine, and I will find out what it is. We will discuss this further upon my return. I only hope that your dealings with That Woman do not backfire on us.  _

_ I love you, my dearest heart, _

- _ Melia.  _

Both boys looked at each other in confusion at the note. They knew already that they had been 'made,' not born in the usual sense. They also knew about their Vampiric nature. Blood was a part of their diet. None of that was new. However, what _was_ new was the names of their apparent fathers and the involvement of this mysterious 'Woman' that their grandmother plainly did not trust. 

Before they could say anything to each other, the table flashed twice. It had gotten a lock on the realm Art had searched for. They both turned to the table. The bright light faded, showing an image of two figures in a massive stone room. One was plainly a human. The other? 

The other creature looked similar to a being they had seen in their history books. Beings that their Grandfather had fought while locked in battle with an ancient evil. But while those beings, Wraiths, were mostly amorphous with the only discernible parts being arms and a head,  _ this _ creature was mostly whole—arms, legs, and torso. It looked more like a blue, emaciated corpse than a Wraith. The human taunted the creature, waving his sword in a threat and the being scoffed. Then it spoke. 

"I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I must. Return the heart to me, and we can end this now," the blue creature said in a wary, almost mournful tone. 

The boys shared a look. 

"Well, that disproves my thought of him being a Wraith," Orn said in a dry tone. "They can't talk."

“While that is true, Orn. It is still strange. Why is that being in the physical plane to begin with rather than the spiritual plane,” Artorias said as he watched the scene unfolding in front of them.

They watched as the human spoke once more, arrogance coating his voice.

“So, you’ve come to avenge that filthy parasite, and reclaim his foul heart?” the human’s voice turned from angry to mocking. “You’re a  _ righteous _ fiend, aren’t you?”

“Apparently I am,” the blue being said.

There was a hint of anger and almost what seemed like an undertone of self-loathing. The boy’s shared a confused look. What did he mean by that?

“No, vampire. This _is_ where it ends, but you won’t be leaving this room,” the human said with a sneer. He paused and said in a plainly insincere tone, “Now let’s finish this - I’ll make it mercifully quick.”

“I do so hate arrogant beings like that,” Ornstein muttered, disgust coating his voice as he set aside the book and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Orn… something doesn’t seem right here,” Art said with a frantic note to his voice. “I don’t know how, but there is, somehow, two of the same blade in that room. That curvy blade the… the wraith-like being is holding? He has a spectral version of that same blade attached to his arm like a symbiote or a parasite. I can’t tell which. The spectral one seems to be held in place by some strange magic.” 

That made Ornstein look at his brother in surprise. He turned back to the table to see that the two were now in the middle of combat. The blue being had managed to gain the upper hand before he quickly plunged his sword into the human. Both Artorias and Ornstein could hear it speak with revulsion and finality.

“I _renounce_ ** _you_** ,” the blue being said. As the human’s body fell to the floor, the blue wraith-like being let out a heavy sigh. “And so it ends. My history comes full circle.”

Once more, the brothers looked at each other in confusion. They turned back to the scene playing out in front of them. Art let out a small hiss of shock. Orn echoed him, suddenly able to  _ see _ the spectral blade his brother spoke of as it manifested in the physical realm. It seemed as if whatever it was that had kept the blade dormant had failed. The spectral energy lifted and started to coil around the physical blade. Art winced at the sight. 

"Oh. Oh, that's not good," Art said, voice breathy with worry.

“No, that isn’t good at all. Let’s go!" Ornstein said as he quickly ran toward the Tairseach. "You are correct in assuming that something wasn’t right. We need to hurry!” 

Artorias followed after him, almost tripping over his feet in his haste. His wings were pulled in tight against his back—a clear sign of worry. Ornstein stopped in front of the dormant portal, looking at his brother. Artorias moved to the bowl filled with silvery-blue sand and grabbed a handful of the sand. He quickly spelled out the runes for 'Nosgoth,' and the Tairseach started to glow a bright green. It took a few moments, but the portal stabilized enough for them to pass through.

"Let's go, Art!" Ornstein said, darting for the portal. "There's no time to waste!"

Once they exited on the other side of the portal, they looked around worriedly. They relaxed upon recognizing the corridors they had seen in the Anzeigen. The moved down the hall, and Orn pulled them to a stop when they almost passed by a balcony looking down on a large, circular room.

"Art, Look!" Ornstein hissed softly, pointing into the room below.

The blue being they had seen in the Anzeigen had been stabbed by the very sword he had used to kill the human. Artorias let out a choked noise, his skin going even paler than usual. Orn knew that there was a layer of horror taking place in the scene before them that he just couldn't see. Even though he couldn't _see_ what his brother could, he could _feel_ temporal energies dancing through the air. Before either boy could move to help, another person walked out of the shadows. 

“ **_You!_ ** ” the blue being cried out in anger. The impaled male cried out in pain as he continued to fight against the sword. “Are you enjoying this, Kain!?” 

"'Kain'?!" Artorias parroted in a strangled whisper. 

He looked at the man, the vampire, that had stepped from the shadows and turned to look at his brother's shocked gaze. Looking back and forth between the two, Art had to admit that the similarities were striking. Ornstein had the same silvery hair and golden-blue eyes as the newcomer and was looking to grow up into just as large a bruiser as the man below. The resemblance was notable when one knew what to look for.

The differences were just as striking, especially the horns around 'Kain's' head that made it look like he was wearing a crown. The man's hands were tri-taloned and deadly to look at. His feet ended in the sharp points of two equally deadly talons. Or were they called hoofs? Regardless, his skin had a goldish hue to it that wasn't natural for mortal beings. 

“Don’t fight it, Raziel… _Give in to it_ ,” Kain spoke with an earnest intensity that surprised the boys just as much as the name he spoke.

"'Raziel?!'” Ornstein parroted with a choked noise. It was his turn to look over at Artorias with a shocked, yet critical, eye. 

Confusion filled them both, however. Only two things pointed to a potential relationship. One was that they both had dark hair. The other was that this 'Raziel' might have once had wings if the tattered drapes of loose skin dangling from his back were anything to go by. There was nothing else about the emaciated being that stood out, but then, maybe this wasn't his natural form?

Both boys seemed to decide at the same moment that  _ now  _ was not the time to address familial resemblances or lack thereof. Both boys turned back to the scene below them just as Kain yanked the sword out of Raziel. Artorias, who was far more attuned to the realms of the spirits, winced. He could  _ see _ Raziel's soul weakening and losing hold of the physical realm. Ornstein winced as well as the temporal energy around them  _ snapped _ and reforged itself anew. As Raziel's form faded from sight, Kain muttering something they could not hear, Art nudged his brother's arm with his elbow. 

“His soul is weakened. Badly so," Artorias said, firm determination in his voice. "He will not last long without some help. I shall go and retrieve him. Try to distract your Father for a few, will you?"

"Distract him?!" Ornstein hissed back with wide eyes. "How do you expect me to do that? Fight him!? He looks like an Eldar!"

"Look, I may be able to stabilize Raziel, but we need to get him to mother!" Art hissed back urgently. "Fight him. Taunt him. Lead him on a merry chase through the halls. I don't care! We have to hurry!"

"Fine! Fine. Just... be  _ swift _ Art," Ornstein said in a strained voice. "While you are off doing that, then I will work on distracting my...  _ Father _ long enough for him to ignore you after you've retrieved your...  _ Father _ . By all that is, was, and will be, this is a fine mess we've found ourselves in, isn't it?"

Ornstein's hand flexed as he used his magic to summon his spear back to his hand. His grip tightened nervously around the haft. Artorias clapped him on the shoulder. 

"Be careful, Orn. I'll contact you once I have retrieved him from the Spirit Realm," Artorias said with a grimacing smile before he too vanished from the physical realm. 

Ornstein turned his gaze back to the vampire below him. Kain was looking around in equal parts anger and confusion, rubbing at the side of his head. The change in Time must be affecting the older male. Orn couldn't tell  _ what _ had happened, and he didn't have the training to do so, he just knew that  _ something _ had changed. Taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves, Orn moved quickly to one of the other balconies overlooking the room below. Once he was behind Kain, he carefully jumped down, using his reflexes to land as quietly as possible.

"Now that was quite the sight," Ornstein said loudly as he stepped into the light. 

Kain immediately turned to face him, sword raised and ready to attack at the first sign of an opening in Orn's defense. Orn fought back the urge to gulp. Face to face as they were, he could see that his Father was an imposing man used to the hazards of the battlefield. He would have to play his cards very, very carefully if he wanted to pull this off. 

"Might I ask what it was you were hoping to accomplish here?" Ornstein asked in what he hoped was a casual voice as he began to circle the room. 

"What  _ I _ am doing here is my own business, boy," Kain replied with a growl, his teeth bared in an angry snarl. "But I am curious as to who you might be. Are you another of Mobieus' pawns?"

Ornstein couldn't help but relax a little as a wave of amusement hit him. Kain was making this easier on him by making, and voicing, his assumptions. He could use that. If Orn could egg him on without confirming anything in the process, that would help his efforts to distract his Father. His lips quirked up in a small smirk. Kain obviously did not appreciate that and lunged toward him swiftly. Ornstein was able to deflect the blow with the shaft of his spear. 

"A pawn, you say?" Orn asked as he danced out of range. "I didn't even know there was a game afoot! No. I am merely a... Traveler... who has stumbled upon this place. I find myself wondering what would make a Vampire want to set foot in a place like this. Rather a dull place, yes?"

Kain let out a dry huff and lunged a second time, his blade locking with the guard of Orn's spear. Orn let out a grunt at the other man's strength and gathered his own to shove the older man back. It worked, thankfully. Kain was pushed back, and he landed on the stone flooring with the grace of a cat. His eyes narrowed on Orn's form, and he tilted his head. He was angry and curious now. 

_ How fun,  _ Orn thought drily. 

"So then, you know what I am, yet do not cower in fear?" Kain let out a scoff, and his tone turned mocking as the pair began to circle each other. "Tell me,  _ Traveler _ , how did you come to enter the Sarafan Stronghold without knowing what this place represents?"

"Come now, that's too easy to answer," Ornstein said with an equally mocking smile despite the wild racing of his heart. "A little bit of magic goes a long way. Doesn't it... _Kain_?"

He charged at his Father, not giving the taller man a chance to respond. Soon enough, the two were exchanging blow for blow. Sword met spear, only to be deflected aside. Spear met air or was deflected in turn. Ornstein's heart was in his throat as they fought. This wasn't like sparing with his brother, his Uncle, or even his Mother. His Father would take his head if he made one wrong move. 

It didn't help that they were in a deadlock. Neither male was backing down from the fight. Both of them were too stubborn to back down. Ornstein realized that he'd gotten that stubbornness, at least in part, from the man in front of him and almost smiled at the thought. Something was niggling at the back of his mind, though. He was missing something. 

However, Orn wasn't able to think about it long. His brother's voice called out over the Whisper, distracting him enough that his bangs got clipped about an inch shorter on the right. 

_*Ornstein! I've got my Father! We need to leave here, now!*_ Artorias' voice was frantic. 

_*Artorias? What the hell happen-*_ Ornstein started, only to have his brother all but shout in his mind. He winced and dodged a slow feint from Kain.

_*NO TIME! We have to get to Mother to heal Raziel,*_ Artorias yelled. * _We need to GO! An old enemy is awake and squirming his way out of the Pit he was buried in! MOVE!*_

_*I will meet you at the outer gate then*_ Orn responded in a stiff tone, trying to contain his worry as he and Kain circled each other warily. His Father's expression was oddly blank. _*Stay hidden. We don't know how many other humans are around the area or if these two cleaned the fortress out.*_

Ornstein turned his full focus back to Kain. He forced a confidant smile to grace his features. Kain let out a huff and backed away, stopping his circling movements. Kain's head tilted to the side as he looked Orn over. He was waiting to see what Orn would do next. 

"I must say, it was fun to spar with you, Lord Kain, but I must depart. Sights to see and other worlds to visit and all that, yes?" Ornstein said. 

He gave Kain a mockery of the bow due to one of such stature and used his magic to teleport away from the area just as Kain lunged for him. Orn had likely dodged a killing blow. His magic locked onto his brother, allowing him to reform next to Art. He put a hand to his chest and let out a relieved huff of breath. By all that was, that was nerve-wracking! 

He turned to look at his brother and frowned. Art had a fearful expression on his face. That was a look that Ornstein did not see him wear often. As Orn looked him over for signs of injury, he took note of Raziel swung over his brother's shoulder. The blue, wraith-like male was unconscious. Orn frowned and batted his brother's hand away from his face when Art made to tug at his shortened bangs. 

"Leave it," Orn muttered under his breath as he raised his hand.

Orn quickly called on his magic to open a Return Portal to take them home. They glanced around quickly to make sure no one could see them or was far enough away that they couldn't follow before stepping through. Both boys froze on the other side. Neither of them was truly surprised to find their Mother in front of them, arms crossed and face stern. 

Although her face was calm, they could see worry and anger simmering in her dark brown eyes. That anger receded a second later when she noticed Raziel hanging from Artorias' shoulder. Her magic danced over the three of them. Her eyes flew wide in shock for a moment before her expression cleared. 

"Quickly Artorias, bring our guest to my room," she ordered in a firm tone. "Ornstein, go and fetch your Uncles Lothian and Erathmus. Quickly now!"

Ornstein bowed his head, glad to be putting off the lecture that was coming for a little longer. Artorias nodded as well and started for his Mother's rooms. She walked beside him at a fast clip. Art could only hope that they had arrived in time for his Father to be saved.

**(Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed chapter 2! I want to thank Areitheperidotdragon and Ash for helping me out with this chapter! Please let me know what you thought! ^^)**


	3. Restoring Life

Iola had just left the council room, feeling more than a little angry. She was disturbed by the recent news she had received from her father regarding her Mother's health. 

_Who would dare_ , Iola angrily thought to herself before shaking her head. Now was not the time. 

She sighed and put a smile on her face as she entered the dining hall. The grand room was lit up by numerous candelabra. The floors were a polished, silvery marble covered with red and gold carpeting spread out beneath several long tables. Iola looked toward the main table for her sons and then toward one of the others where the boys often sat with their friends. Her sons were nowhere in sight. Frowning, she turned and waved down one of the servants. The young girl rushed over and bowed, looking back up at Iola with a strained smile. 

"Darling, have you seen my Ornstein and Artorias?" she asked gently, keeping her tone soothing. 

The girl's bright green eyes narrowed in thought and confusion before she shook her head. 

"No, my Lady, I have not seen either of the young Lord's recently," she said in a meek tone. "If I may, the last I have heard, another servant said they say both of the young Lords near Lord Mathius' viewing chamber."

Iola's eyes narrowed in anger at that. She remembered quite well the trouble the mischievous boys had gotten into when they had last used the two artifacts stored in that room. They had nearly gotten themselves killed! Thanking the servant, she turned and left the room at a fast clip. Hopefully, the boys hadn't been foolish enough to activate the artifacts this time around. 

As she entered the room, that hope died a swift death. Both the Anzeigen and the Tairseach were active and humming with power. She almost cursed at the sight. She moved over to the table, looking over the runes that the boys had spelled out. 'Nosgoth.' 

_ Strange, that name sounds vaguely familiar _ , Iola thought to herself as her fingers trailed over the gold trim on the table.

She shook her head and dismissed the thought for later. Pulling the skirts of her dress up, she stalked toward the open portal of the Tairseach. Before she could pass through it, it began to hum softly. The boys were already on their way back from their little... jaunt. Stepping away from the Tairseach, she could see her two sons exit and didn’t seem surprised by her presence. 

She instantly noticed their disheveled states. Both looked to have been in a fight. Wonderful. Before Iola could demand answers from the boys, her eyes landed on a third figure slung over Artorias’s shoulder. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her magic flared to touch the strange figure. Immediately she could sense that the being was weak and was only slowly growing weaker by the second.

“Quickly Artorias, bring our guest to my room,” she ordered in a firm tone. She could scold the boys later. “Ornstein go fetch your Uncles Lothian and Erathmus! Quickly now!”

Ornstein sketched a quick bow her way before darting for the door. She saw the mixture of relief and worry in his eyes and had to bite back a chuckle. Iola turned to Artorias and signaled for him to follow her before turning and making her way to her rooms. They moved at a fast clip, not quite a run. The servants who tended to her rooms saw their approach and swiftly moved to open the doors. Iola waved her son ahead of her, indicating her four-poster canopy bed.

Artorias moved over to the bed and laid the weakening being down. Iola frowned as her magic examined the poor soul. That energy. Her eyes widened, and she looked over at her dark-haired son. Had they...? Before she could ask, she heard footsteps rapidly approaching the room. She turned to greet her Uncles with a faint smile. 

Her Uncle Lothian was a tall man in flowing white robes. He exuded natural, calming energy that helped soothe almost anyone who was in the same room. Uncle Lothian had short, aged silver hair that had been slicked back and a silver well-trimmed beard to match. His dark green eyes were lit up with worry as he stepped into the room. Those green eyes trailed over both Iola and Artorias worriedly. Seeing that they were uninjured, he relaxed— until he saw the form on the bed, that is. 

As for her Uncle Erathmus, he was a visual contrast to Lothian in his black armor. Much like how Artorias was to Ornstein, the two complemented each other in looks. Erathmus' hair long, black hair was pulled back in a tail, but several strands had come loose to give him a slightly unkempt look. Like his brother, his eyes immediately went to Iola and Artorias to check them over. He too relaxed for all of a second before going still. 

"Uncles, I need your assistance. This poor being needs healing, badly," she started, only to be interrupted by Arotrias coughing nervously into his hand.

"His name is Raziel," Artorias offered up hesitantly as Ornstein moved to stand beside him. 

"Raziel then," Iola said with a small smile before moving to stand by the bed. She looked the male over before turning to her Uncles. "I'll need your help. I cannot heal him alone."

"His injuries are horrible!" Lothian said with a worried shake of his head. He moved to stand by his niece, determination in his eyes. "Let us begin immediately, yes?"

"That he is still alive is inconceivable!" Erathmus exclaimed in a low voice as he moved to the other side of the bed. "His soul is barely hanging on as it is. Artorias, I am going to need your aid in keeping his soul stable. Ornstein, join your Mother and Lothian in healing his body. Between the five of us, we should be able to restore him."

The boys nodded their understanding and moved to stand by their respective Great-Uncles as directed. Iola moved to stand at the foot of the bed, Lothian and Ornstein were on the left while Artorias and Erathmus stood on the right. Erathmus began first, holding up his hands and allowing his magic to flow into the air. Artorias held out his own hands, and they too began to glow a deep blue. Their energies coalesced in the air above Raziel's form before sinking down and slowly fusing with his body. 

Once his soul was stable, Erathmus nodded at his brother. Lothian nodded back and raised his hands, allowing his power to swell. Iola and Ornstein matched his movements. White-green healing light flowed from their hands and sank down into Raziel's still form. It took some time, but his emaciated form slowly began to fill out. Iola rather thought it was like watching one of those 'time-lapse' videos from one of her cousin's realms, only in reverse. 

It took perhaps an hour, maybe more, before they were done. Raziel was healed, body, and wings. He was naked but for the wrap of cloth around his head. Iola looked him over with a drained sigh, calling her magic back to her hand. Her Uncles and sons followed suit, only for Artorias and Ornstein to both collapse. Iola let out a worried noise. Her Uncles moved the boys over toward the foot of the bed so she could look them over. 

While she did that, her Uncles moved to turn Raziel on his side and began to check his limbs, testing their mobility. Each leg and arm seemed to work as it was supposed to, but their main concern was his wings. As they turned Raziel over, they furled up protectively. Like Artorias', they folded oddly at the back, curling in on themselves so that, when furled, the very tips of the wings extended out behind the head and shoulder. Erathmus let out a huff and reached for the right-wing.

Just as Iola was about to ask her son's what they had been doing to have found Artorias' father of all things, Raziel burst into motion. His wings stretched out violently at Erathmus' touch, knocking both of Iola's Uncles onto their asses. He twisted around to stand, only to get tangled in the delicate sheets of Iola's bed and fall back against the headboard. The boys snickered tiredly, and Iola shushed them. Raziel twisted to look at them, wide-eyed and angry.

"Who the hell are you?" he snapped out, cutting away at Iola's sheets with his talons to free himself. "Where am I? What th-Damnable things!"

He finally managed to free himself from the sheets only to stumble back. Raziel's wings flared out to help with his balance only to catch against the bedposts with a harsh clap of sound. Raziel yelped in pain, twisting to look behind him. He froze and fell to his knees with a shocked look on his now restored and noble visage.

"My wings?!" he exclaimed in a strangled voice. "By the Dark Gods... my wings!"

**(I hope you enjoyed chapter 3! I would like to thank my friends Ash and Arie for helping with this chapter!)**


	4. Awakening

Iola's Uncle's quickly got to their feet and backed away as Raziel stared in shock at his restored wings. Iola quietly signaled both men to take her son's to their rooms to rest. They nodded their heads and helped the boys to their feet. As they left, Iola turned to face Raziel. Nodding to herself, she walked over to him and stopped a few feet away. She caught his attention with a small, cheerful clap of her hands, and his blue-gold eyes snapped up to meet her own brown irises.

“There are no Dark Gods to be found within this room, darling," she said in a gentle tone. She nodded her head in greeting. "I am Iola, the Goddess of Life for the Realms of Solair, Tjaki, Imoriala, and Eldrun. My son told me that your name is Raziel, yes?

"Yes," Raziel answered warily, still crouched on the bed with the tatters of her bed-sheets spread around him.

"Tell me, how do you feel, Raziel?” she asked, honest concern in her voice.

“I am... well," Raziel said slowly, lifting his arms to look them over out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to be too on guard. Too intent on not letting her out of his sight for even a second. "You are a healer as well as a... self-proclaimed Goddess then?"

“I am. Do you not believe me?” Iola asked gently as if she was afraid to startle him with her voice alone.

"Many a creature I have faced has dared to claim to be divine. I truly doubt you are such a thing," Raziel said bitterly, his eyes narrowing on her form. "What do you mean to do with me, hm? Demand something unreasonable? Some impossible task like so many others have done?"

Iola didn’t say anything at first. She tilted her head as if in thought and then nodded to herself. She began to slowly walk over to him, telegraphing her movements so that he could withdraw if he wished to. At his lack of action, she perched delicately upon the edge of the bed. She then offered her wrist for Raziel to take.

“Drink then. I know you are a vampire. If you don’t believe me, then drink. I am sure your Thirst has returned now that you have been restored, and you can taste the truth of my words in my blood," she stated with a small smile.

Iola maintained her smile even as he stared at her. It was as if he thought that she was a strange creature. Perhaps he even believed her to be insane. She held her smile in place and moved her offered wrist a little closer to him. She wanted to show the Father of her son that she meant him no ill will. Not unless he offered violence to her and hers.

"..." 

Raziel remained silent, looking pensive at first and then thoughtful. Eventually, though, he reached out and took her hand in his. He pulled her wrist up to his mouth, his eyes never leaving her form before sinking fangs into her wrist. Iola almost chuckled sadly but held back the urge. He was such a cautious being. It was as if he expected her to offer violence even though she had spent time and effort to heal him.

Raziel almost groaned the moment her blood hit his tongue. The ruby fluid in her veins was like a combination of the finest of wines, fruits, and sweet-meats. All rolled into one, supposedly divine, creature. His eyes fluttered shut despite his now suspicious nature, and he fed deeply. The woman's, Iola's, blood was so good that a noise akin to a purr rumbled in his chest. He caught himself second later and forcibly pulled away from her, one talon moving automatically over the wound to help the injury clot over. 

"Right then... that was..." Raziel coughed lightly into his other hand and pulled back a bit, still crouched warily. "I... Where am I? What is this place?"

He was still naked save for his Clan banner wrapped loosely over his chest, but he hadn't fully noticed that fact as of yet. He relaxed enough to look around the room briefly—such finery around him. Was she a noble of some power? Was that why her blood sang so? He was hesitant to consider that she might  _ actually _ be divine. 

Iola slowly and gently reached out to grab the shreds of her sheets with her free hand. She then gently placed it over his lower body, which caused him to jump slightly at the movement. He looked himself over briefly and then turned his gaze back to her. Casual nudity didn't seem to bother him. She chuckled softly before her gaze turned serious.

“How do you feel?” Iola asked as she gently pulled her arm from his grasp. She turned her wrist to show him that the wounds caused by his fangs had already healed over. "Are you still hungry?"

"My blood hunger is sated," Raziel said almost hesitantly. His tone grew firm a moment later."You've dodged my questions twice now. I'll ask again, do you mean to task me with something in return for... for restoring me and where are we? You mentioned places that you claim as your own but have not said which one we are in."

“There is nothing I would ask from you. We are in the Realm of Varia, known as the home of the Gods. Though I must ask, what do you remember?” she asked with a bit of worry in her voice.

"..." Raziel raised a brow at Iola and let out a soft huff of almost laughter. "I remember many things. I would suggest asking about something a bit more specific." 

"I can see where he gets some of his personality from," Iola said under her breath in a dry tone. She shook her head a moment later. "What do you recall from the time just before you fell unconscious. I have not yet had a chance to ask my sons why and how they came upon you."

"What do you mean by that?" Raziel asked with a confused frown. "Who gets whose personality from whom? And yes. I can recall that much. I was fighting with... someone... and ended up in the Spectral Realm. I then had to face a tormentor who claims to be my creator and master. A... rather odd boy came to aid me before that fiend could toss me into a wall. The damnable thing was playing with me..."

"Tormentor? Will you tell me more about them and your Realm?” Iola asked, disturbed by the fact that Raziel had someone that tormented him.

“And to answer your question, the odd boy was my son Artorias…” 

Iola pressed her lips together and fell silent, unsure if she should tell him what she'd discovered. Some males did not like finding out that they were Fathers. Some might be happy. Others still could be apathetic. Then again, the same could be said of some females across the Realms. Those that left their unhatched eggs with the males to raise. She wasn't sure how Raziel might react or even how she wanted him to react.

"Your son. How in the hells would he get his personality from me?" Raziel asked with a raised brow, confusion in his eyes. He shifted to rest cross-legged and tilted his head. "At least, I assume that is what you were alluding to by saying such a thing."

Iola allowed a small smile to play over her lips at his deduction. She decided to take the plunge and tell him the truth. Hopefully, he would fall into the category of being excited to have a son. Or at least show indifference to the matter.

"When I was healing you, Raziel," she paused for a moment and pressed on. "I noticed that your soul was similar to my son’s—the mark of a familial link. Not just a mark of the soul, but one of blood as well. In truth, he is your child. Mind, he was not born from my womb. Artorias and Ornstein were gifted to me by my Father, and I cherish them greatly.”

Raziel's eyes slowly widened in confusion as she spoke, his wings unfurling to rest limply against the bed. He had a son? How? Perhaps the boy was a product of his days as a Human but... No. That could not be the case either. Now that he could focus on something other than fighting for his life, he could recall seeing wings on the boy's back, vampiric claws instead of blunt Human nails and the sharp, deadly fangs of a predator as the boy had snarled his defiance at the Elder God.

"The boy...  _ How _ ?" Raziel asked in a strained voice, finally able to voice his thoughts. "I know not how it works in your Realm, but the Vampires of Nosgoth are  _ sterile. _ We cannot Sire or Birth living heirs! Your words explain the wings, claws, and fangs I saw on the boy, but...  _ How _ ?!"

“We are Gods, Raziel," Iola explained gently even as she watched Raziel's reactions with guarded curiosity. "We are not bound to birthing children in the usual way Humans do should we desire them. If you truly wish to know how the process works, then I can introduce you to my Father when you have fully recovered. He can better explain what magic he used to gift me with my darling boys. Though you should know, you are fully healed and no longer sterile, Raziel.” 

"I... but... I..." Raziel stuttered and then rubbed at his face.

He had been following her explanation well enough. These 'gods' as they called themselves, had unique ways of producing their young. Fine. That was fine. His problem was with the last sentence that she'd uttered. He was no longer sterile? How in the hells...?

"I'm a bloody _undead_ _Vampire_!" he shouted in confused exasperation, his hands flailing emotively and his wings twitching and raising with his movements. "HOW?!"

Iola could no longer hold in her amusement at his reaction. She laughed—a light, vibrant, bell-like noise that rang through the air. It took a few moments for her to contain herself, a hand gently pressed to her lips as she continued to giggle. Raziel was looking at her in equal parts confusion, annoyance, and bemusement. Finally, she got a hold of herself and answered him.

”I am the Goddess of Life, darling," she said with a smile. "Should I see fit, I can give back that which was taken away. It was after all a curse that caused the sterility that afflicted you, and I have removed that curse from you in the process of healing your wounded form. But now I must ask you a grave question. Please let me know if you don’t wish to talk about it. Please, would you tell me more about this Tormentor who also claims to be your master and creator?"

"By all the..." Raziel rubbed at his face wearily. "First, you tell me that I have a son. Then you say that your Father somehow magicked you up a child using my blood and soul. Now you tell me that I can... wait... you said you have  _ two  _ sons. Are they  _ both _ mine?!"

It was clear that Raziel was about to meet his wits' end and had missed her other question about his jailer. The woman, the Goddess, was throwing surprise after surprise into his face since he'd woken up. What other madness would he have to face?

Iola would smile gently before shaking her head. His reactions were, admittedly, quite amusing to watch. 

"No, only Artorias is your son-” she began.

Only she was cut off by the sound of someone knocking at her door. The door opened before she could speak. She smiled as she watched Ornstein hesitantly enter the room, but her eyes traced a path over his form worriedly. He'd just used an immense amount of magic, and she was concerned that he was not in his room resting.

“Forgive my intrusion, Mother,” Ornstein started with a small, shaky bow. He would have said more, but Raziel's shout interrupted him.

"Why the hell did you bring my younger sire...!" Raziel started, trying to jerk to his feet in his agitation only to fall back with a confused huff as he turned to look at Iola. "Wait... he...  _ Mother _ ???? What?!" 

Ornstein paused and straightened back up. He'd look at Raziel with confusion in his eyes. He'd already met and fought with his Father during their brief foray onto Nosgoth, but... he shook his head. 

”Yes, she is Mother," Ornstein said in a calm voice. "May I ask why you would think I am the younger version of your… sire, is it?”

"You look just like my Sire did when he first raised us as Vampires," Raziel said weakly as he looked over the boy with wide eyes. "Kain... he is the Emperor of Nosgoth."

"Wait..." Ornstein blinked at him for a moment before grinning widely in amusement. "I'm the son of an  _ Emperor _ ?!"

"Oh dear," Iola said with a sigh and a shake of her head. Her gaze turned stern as she looked at her son. "Don't let that go to your head, young man."

"Ha!" Raziel laughed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "If he's anything at all like Kain, then you're already too late to warn him thusly."

Ornstein looked at his Mother and then to his... what, Uncle? Nephew? How did Vampiric lineage even work? He shook his head and straightened his shoulders with a smirk. 

"I'd never let such a thing go to my head," he said proudly. "Now, Artorias? He'd be the one to worry about getting a big head. I mean, if your Sire is an Emperor, that makes you a Prince, right? Yeah, Art would puff up like a peacock finding that out."

Iola shook her head with a sigh and placed her hand over her eyes. She dropped her hand a moment later and pinned her son with a stern look.

"My goodness," she started, her tone disappointed. "Ornstein, please try and mind your manners, young man."

"But, Mother," Ornstein said, a small whine in his voice as he looked at her with mock horror on his face. "You know it's true!"

Iola let out a sigh and stood, patting her skirts back into place before moving regally to her son's side. Her right hand closed around her fan as she walked, and she let it tap-tap-tap against her left arm. Ornstein tried to flash one of his 'winning' smiles at her, only to get lightly thunked on the head with said fan. He let out a whine and rubbed at his head. 

"Enough lazing about son," she said firmly. "Go and fetch our guest some clothes. I will be leaving for a few days to pay a visit to the Realm you and your brother chose to dally in."

"But I..." Ornstein started only to have to duck another light thwack of his Mother's fan. "Going! Going!"

Iola simply shook her head and smiled in amusement as Ornstein left the room. She then turned back to Raziel, her smile fading. She made her way back to his side and sat down next to him once more.

"I am sorry about that," she said with a bow of her head. "Children can be quite rambunctious. I apologize for the interruption, Raziel. But I must ask once more about your Tormentor if you wish to tell me about them. If not, you may rest while I go and investigate your Realm myself.”

"Ah, yes," Raziel's expression darkened, and his voice turned bitter. "A bloated creature that feeds on the souls of others. The beast claims to be the all-encompassing wheel of Life, Death, and Rebirth. He's not but a bloated parasitical octopus if you ask me. And the eyes... so many eyes watching your every movement..." 

Raziel could not contain the shudder that ran through him from toe-tip to wing-tip. The bloated creature that called itself the Elder God had dogged his steps from the moment he regained awareness in the Spectral Realm. The beast was nightmarish in appearance, and he found himself briefly glad that, as an Elder Vampire, he did not need sleep as much as he had in his youth. His memories haunted him aplenty as it was. He did not need nightmares on top of it all.

At the description of the being that had tormented him so, Iola instantly became extremely worried. If the creature was who and what she thought it was, then... Why was it in Nosgoth? How had it come to be there? It was supposed to have been banished to the nothingness that was oblivion!

“I thank you, Raziel. You have helped me and made it clear that I must go to Nosgoth,” Iola said, placing her fan against her mouth in thought. "Perhaps more answers can be found there. Ornstein should be back with clothing for you in a few."

"If you think there are answers to be found, feel free," Raziel said with a shrug of shoulder and wing. He tried to stand once more, intending to join her, only to settle back onto the bed shakily. "Damnable..."

“You need to rest Raziel. Your body will need time to recover and grow used to it’s healed state. When Ornstein returns with clothing, I’ll have him fetch Artorias so that you may get to know your son,” Iola said, turning to look at Raziel once more to gauge his reaction. "That is if you wish to."

"I... believe I might like that," Raziel responded hesitantly, opening and closing his hands. Really, it was as if he'd woken from a Torpor state. He shook his head and let out a faint huff of amusement mixed with grief. "It has been some time since I have... had a Childe to raise. I would see what all he knows."

Iola smiled at him as she responded in a soothing tone.

“Then it shall be done,” she said. “I am sure Artorias will be happy to spend time with the one that helped create him. Rest well, Raziel, and don’t overexert yourself too much.”

“As you say,” Raziel said with a huff. He was about to say something when there was a knock at the door.

Ornstein was back with clothing and, as luck would have it, his brother was shadowing him with a curiosity shining in his eyes. He met Raziel’s gaze and gave the winged Vampire an almost shy wave of his hands. Ornstein simply nodded his head in greeting toward first his Mother and then Raziel before moving over to set the clothes next to Raziel. Ornstein then looked at Raziel almost sheepishly. 

“I did my best to guess your size,” Ornstein said carefully as he stepped back. He glanced at his Mother. “I hope that was okay?”

“You did well son,” Iola said as she smiled at her son before continuing. “I shall be heading to Nosgoth myself. I would appreciate it if you and Artorias would keep Raziel company and show him around for me.”

“Are you sure that is a wise decision, mother?” Ornstein asked worriedly.

“There is no choice in the matter, my son,” Iola said in a firm voice. “I am in need of answers for what is truly going on in that Realm. I’ll be back soon. Do try not to get into too much trouble with your brother.” 

Ornstein sighed and looked at the ground as his mother left the room, worry filling him despite her assurances. His Mother could take care of herself, he knew this, but he was old enough now to worry for her safety. Powerful as she was, he knew even the Gods were not invincible. He shook off his worry and turned to Raziel.

“I shall allow you to change while I go fetch Artori-Ack!” Ornstein said as he started for the door, only to run into his brother. Artorias burst into laughter. “Dammit, brother! Stop laughing!”

Raziel smiled faintly as the two brothers began to bicker, silently dressing while they argued. He then moved over and clapped his taloned hands on both of their shoulders, startling them into surprised silence.

“Well then, why don’t you two whelps show me to the training yards so I can see what training you’ve received thus far?” he said in a bland tone that somehow still caused both boys to gulp worriedly and look at each other.

**(Heyo~ I hope you enjoyed chapter 4! I would like to thank my awesome friend and editor Areitheperidotdragon and my awesome friend Ash!)**


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